Rebuilding a Legacy: The Gastrotypographical- assemblage
Article by
Richard AnwylMarch 5, 2008

The original wall circa 1966 (top) and details of the gastro-typography
(above).

A letter “B” in mid-restoration

Nick Fasciano restoring a word

Various restored letters

Lou Dorfsman with his wall in the CBS cafeteria c. 1966 (top) and
typography sketches by Herb Lubalin, c. 1965, from a 1975 article in
U&lc, vol. 2, no.1.
Each day our world changes, the old quickly vanishing, displaced
by inspired new designs, new perspectives and brilliant imaginative
creations. Society seemingly demands it, our fascination and
appetite for embracing the new apparently endless. Who of us is not
awed by the scale of Dubai's architecture, amused by the latest
television commercial, drawn to the value and logic of the Prius
Hybrid automobile or the aesthetic and functional design of Apple's
iPhone?
But what of the abandoned—what responsibility do we have for
preserving our displaced creations, yesterday's symbols of
inspiration, logic and creative ingenuity? Champions for the
salvation of one such creation is the Center for
Design Study, where I serve as executive director. This Atlanta
nonprofit foundation is battling to preserve a seminal piece of
America's design history that for 20 years was mounted on the
cafeteria wall of the CBS building. While some may not be aware of
this inspiring three-dimensional memorial to typography, many are
familiar with its creator, Lou Dorfsman. The CBS cafeteria wall is
as legendary as its visionary designer and art director. Conceived
in the mid-1960s and ultimately completed in 1966, the expansive
wall, spanning over 35-feet wide and 8-feet tall, is a national
design treasure. In producing the wall Dorfsman enlisted support
from life-long friend and design legend Herb Lubalin. Lubalin,
along with Tom Carnase, masterfully crafted the typography for the
aptly dubbed "Gastrotypographicalassemblage."
Dorfsman, now approaching 90, considers the wall his magnum
opus, his gift to the world. Unceremoniously discarded by CBS
management in the early 1990s, the wall's nine panels were
thankfully salvaged by New York designer Nick Fasciano. Time and
improper storage had ravaged the monument, however, leaving it in a
state of disrepair. The Center for Design Study, having acquired
the wall, is engaged in fundraising to support the meticulous and
extensive restoration required. The goal is to see Dorfman's wall
restored to its full integrity and as part of a permanent traveling
exhibition on historical American design, to serve as a tool for
education and expanding awareness of the value of intelligently
applied design. The wall is a window to the past that should be
built up, not torn down.
Too many once-revered icons may now only be found in books and
journals or in some digitized visual library; the least fortunate
are committed only to memory. Countless pieces of art and design
are silently destroyed each year, lost forever, receiving only
quiet bereavement after the fact. Many are lost to ignorance,
either to their very existence or as historical symbols of our
professions contributions in shaping our culture and its values.
Loudly signaling acknowledgment to the inherent value of our
professions artifacts, and the importance of their preservation,
AIGA's installment of a national design archive at the Denver Art
Museum is to be applauded. But is it enough to simply belong to an
organization that supports the design field's creative
contributions? I believe the answer to be a resounding no—we must
each personally challenge ourselves to take responsible action, to
celebrate not only the new but to respect our industry's valued
legacy and preserve the esteemed work of those who came before
us.